


Sanctum

by Ladyofmelancholy



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Blood and Gore, F/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 10:09:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17262317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladyofmelancholy/pseuds/Ladyofmelancholy
Summary: Seven, a victim of human experimentation, doesn't have a life of her own. She's a puppet of of a merciless scientist named Dr. Osbourne. Forced to run into the members of the B.A.U., Seven for the first time has the will to fight back.





	1. Chapter 1

        "Now boarding to D.C.!" the intercom announced into the dull roar of conversation and wind in the tunnels of the train station. 

"Don't forget Amie's recital tonight -"

"You wanted lowfat right? You're sure not whole -?"

"Train's boarding now, I'll be there soon as I can -"

"Be safe, love you -"

         Seven resisted allowing a smile change her expression. She always snooped in on other people's conversations, catching a glimpse into normalcy. She turned a page in the small, worn poetry book she was reading.  The tenseness in her shoulders relaxed a tiny bit. 

         A tall, thin man flipping intensely through a notebook sat on the edge of the bench opposite her. She glanced at his files and the words "profile" and "skin" stood out to her. A man stomping by who smelled strongly of cheap beer paused in front of Seven and her muscles tensed. 

"Hey," he growled and Seven looked up from her book, irritated. "My car broke down and I need some cash for a tow. Think you can help me out?"

"I don't have any cash on me. Sorry," Seven replied, attempting to end the conversation. 

"What? Lil' Virginia Tech girl can't be bothered to help some hick out? Huh?" the man slurred, trying to focus his bloodshot eyes on Seven. 

"I don't have any money on me," Seven repeated. "I can't help you."

"Where're you headed?" 

Seven inwardly sighed. "Nowhere."

He bared yellow teeth in a rancid smile. "That so?"

The man on the bench was listening to them now, and Seven prayed he wouldn't intervene.

"S' that book?" he asked, making a grab for it. 

Seven snatched it away from his grimy fingers. "It's mine. Leave me alone."

The man barked out a laugh. "Or what?"

"Or I will escort you out," the man sharing Seven's bench chimed in, rising to his feet and showing the drunk man a badge. "Dr. Spencer Reid, F.B.I."

          Now that the man, Dr. Reid, was standing, the pistol on his hip was clearly visible. The drunk sneered at him, but made the wise decision of lumbering away, spitting on the floor. 

         Seven smiled politely at the agent, not allowing her pulse to quicken. "Thank you."

"Of course," Dr. Reid replied, sitting back down. "Shocking how rude people can be."

          Seven agreed and opened the yellowed paper of her little book, hoping the conversation would end there. 

"HEY! YOU! HEY YOU!" A loud shout grabbed both of their attentions. 

          Without looking at or saying anything to the agent, Seven got up and weaved through the crowd getting off of the arriving train. The man shoving through the crowd bellowed out a curse, but Seven had already slipped out of a utility door. 

           Only later when Seven had removed her pursuers left thumb  (the right one having been removed months prior by Seven herself) did she notice that she had dropped her little book in the escape from the station. 

          Seven was a criminal, of that there was no question. A thief, and assassin, a wallflower, a driver, a drug dealer, she was a matter of circumstance. Whatever they needed. 

          Seven couldn't remember what life was like before Dr. Osbourne and his acolytes got a hold of her. She had been very young when she was taken, she had barely began to understand the world around her when her world became hopeless, cold, and methodical. Experiment number seven. She never learned want happened to the six before her. 

          Osbourne ordered her to infiltrate a gang in Miami and await further instructions. Seven did what she had to and became a leopard of purple and blue bruises; prowling alleyways and watching, hunting, waiting...

         There were a lot of overlooked crimes that took place in Miami, drunk college girls were snatched from the streets what seemed like every week and it wasn't unusual for sex workers to end up strangled and dumped into the dark waters of the Pacific. Since Seven had gotten the tiniest foothold in the city, these sorts of crimes no longer went unpunished. 

         Hitting your spouse cost both thumbs and sometimes more. Trying to kidnap girls was worth two weeks in 'the cooler'. Touching kids was costly: all your fingernails, genitals, lips, eyelids, and tongue. It was a public service, really.

         Seven woke up early one morning to a text from a girl named Toni who worked at the same club as Seven. Apparently, the F.B.I. were in town. 

         A minor inconvienence. Easy to avoid. They were probably after the same kinds of people anyway. 

          Work went on. A woman whose sons were far too skinny and dotted in bruises disappeared from the streets and the boys received a duffle bag full of cash and tickets to fly to their relatives in the west. A man who enjoyed catching and torturing cats was found wandering the beach, muttering about 'four-eyes'. A hissing cat had been branded onto his arm, the sear would never fade all the way. 

           The main front Seven hung around was a club called Prodegy. The girls who worked there were evidently unused to being treated like people and they liked Seven for her kindness. 

         Toni overheard, and relayed to Seven, that a man who recently moved into a very nice condo had been following one of the girls around, but the boss wanted to wait and see if anything would happen because he was rich and would be missed in a sudden disappearance.

         A week later, Marcella, a sweet, quiet girl who also worked at Prodegy, was found mutilated in an alley.

          Rage got the better of her. Seven couldn't allow it to go unpunished. The other girls agreed. A sneaky, small girl named Eloise was dispatched to keep an eye open for opportunities to snatch him up. 

          Two large men, Lock and Barrel, were sent to gather the vile man when an opportunity presented itself. Seven was anxious to meet him and paced the concrete basement of Prodegy, worrying behind her mask about the competence of the two men she had sent out. The fluorescent bulbs flickered with the best from upstairs. One masked girl stood guard from each corner. They had been friends with Marcella. Everyone had been. 

          The bastard had gutted Marcella while she had been alive. Wrapped her intestines around her throat and ignored her gargled pleas. He had cut her into so many pieces the cops hadn't even found half of her. 

         He wouldn't be able to die for this. Dying would mean am escape, an end to his suffering. He would beg to die and they would keep it from him. 

"They're bringing them down," Toni rasped from behind a panda mask. 

"Them?" Seven repeated. 

"Idiots," one of the other girls mumbled. 

"Shut the FUCK  _UP_!" Lock roared from down the hall and the sound of striking flesh echoed into the room. 

Lock and Barrel dragged two figures with sacks over their heads into the room and dumped them at Seven's feet. 

"Thank you gentlemen," Seven's voice disguiser chirped. "Although this is one more than I ordered."

"Civilian got in the way," Lock grunted, nudging the thinner man with his foot. 

"Alright. You may go." 

           They nodded and left. Toni moved to rip the mask off the fat figure. There was the sweaty, piggish face of the man who had killed Marcella. 

"Can you take mine off too? It's sort of stuffy," the thinner man asked. 

          Seven paused. Something was familiar about that voice. She reached out and tugged the hood off of his head. Her heart sank. 

          It never occurred to her that she could be so unlucky as to run into the only F.B.I. agent who knew what she looked like.  Dr. Spencer Reid blinked up at her mask, curious more than afraid. 

"He's a cop," Root, one of the girls, hissed. 

"He's a federal agent," Seven corrected. "They didn't search him."

          Seven reached down to pull his badge from his pocket.

 "How is Lady coming along with the file on this waste of space?" Seven asked, walking over to where the fat man lay. 

"Austin Dixon, 34. Recently moved onto Sugarpalm Drive," Dr. Reid chimed in. Lady strode in, wearing sweatpants and a bunny mask. 

"Yeah. Kinda stole my thunder there nerd boy," she said, handing Seven some files. "They're also after him if you haven't guessed. Marcella wasn't his first."

Lady lashed out, kicking Dixon in the back and sending him crashing flat onto his face. His nose broke with a snap and he howled. 

"FUCK YOU!" he screamed and Toni landed a hard kick on his ribs, making him cough.

Seven crouched down in front of Dixon, grabbing a fistful of his hair to force him to look at her. 

"This girl," Seven's altered voice chirped as she held up a picture of Marcella. "You killed her. Gutted her. Cut her into such small pieces that they haven't even found them all. 

Dixon gave her a bloody sneer. "Yeah I killed the little -" Seven interrupted his bragging with a sock to the jaw, and the sound of it breaking made Dr. Reid flinch. 

"Give him to the boys in whatever condition you see fit," Seven growled. The other girls wanted his blood more than she did, so she was satisfied knowing he would suffer. Toni and Root had been waiting for this, they jumped into action, digging their nails into his skin and mocking his moans as they dragged him away. 

"Would the two of you sound the alarm? His friends will be here for him soon and we need to be long gone when they do," Seven said, turning Dr. Reid's badge over in her hands. 

The two girls paused, startled, then hurried from the room. 

"Dilauded?" Seven asked after a brief silence. 

Dr. Reid's head snapped up. "What?"

"You've got the marks on your arms, but your face isn't picked at," Seven replied. "It's a waste. Fight. Live."

"You're one to talk about wasting your life! Working for whoever owns this. Being chased by gang members in train stations."

"... I was hoping you wouldn't remember me," Seven said. 

"I have and eidetic memory," Dr. Reid explained. "Could you take these zip ties off of my wrists, please? They hurt."

Cautious, but sure Dr. Reid wouldn't try anything, she cut him loose. 

"5 minutes," a voice in her earpiece warned. 

Seven paced over to the black ornate chair in the middle of the room. 

"You can't have your killer back," Seven said. "But rest assured: he will face justice."

"You don't want a life like this, you long to be free, I can see it in the poems you've visited again and again," Dr. Reid said, very quickly as though someone might interrupt him. 

Seven heard tires screech overhead. 

"Building's comp'd, Seven," Toni warned through her earpiece. 

"Your name is Seven?" Dr. Reid repeated. "Listen, Marcella's family won't get closure if they never know what happened - "

"They know." Seven kicked open a hatch in the floor just behind the ornate chair. "I hope we don't run into each other again, Dr. Reid. Persevere." 

With those words Seven stepped into the open hatch and it snapped shut behind her. She could still hear his shout echo against the walls of the pipe as Seven slid far below the city. Seven cursed to herself as the pipe leveled out , depositing her into the storm drains. A three minute sprint brought her to a ladder she climbed to find a car driven by Toni waiting for her. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the positive feedback! It encourages me to sit down and type more out! Sorry it took so long ー( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ I'm also sorry for any grammatical errors I'm typing this on my phone 🎉

          Seven knew that the consequences of exposing her identity to the F.B.I. were going to be severe. She also knew that trying to run was useless because she had tried time and time again and been caught each time. So when a man in a suit approached her in an empty convienence store, she went with him without a struggle. 

          Seven had been taken from her home when she was barley 4. Her parents, dutiful and protective, had tried to stop the men that broke in, but were no match for them. Seven had silently sobbed as she heard her mother screaming and the gunshots and stuffed her fist in her mouth to stay quiet and flattened herself against the wall under her bed. In spite of her hiding and landing a decent blow on one of the men's groin, the four men dragged her out from under the bed, put a bag over her little head, and threw her in the back of a soundproof van. 

         Seven, 21 years later, didn't remember any of that. The memories of her youth, anything that didn't have to do with her training, were deemed unproductive and so they were removed. Seven's entire world was her training, the sterile cold of the facility, and her missions. 

         Dr. Osbourne told her that she was distracted. That he expected her to be above childish attachments. Every word he spoke brought a new wave of agony. Three months later Seven saw the sun again; Osbourne was convinced he had done his best work yet.

          Seven drifted through the world like a ghost; unsure where she was, pale, bloody, and cold. The sunlight felt unnatural and everything was hazy.

         6 months after she had been 'improved', a manilla file was thrust into Seven's hands and she was told it was an elimination; no witnesses. On the plane to Virginia, Seven studied the photographs of the blonde woman. Somehow she seemed familiar...

          The two subjects dispatched with her kept an eye on the woman's house for several days. The woman was most often at work, and discresion had been strongly advised, so for a long time they just watched. 

          The blonde woman went for a walk by herself through Quantico one evening, talking animatedly on her cellphone. The three experiments approached, alley cats to an unwary bird.

"I'll talk to Reid, if anyone knows more, he will," she was saying. She had a kind voice. 

         Her conversation was cut off when Subject 63 snatched her phone out of her hand and crushed it underfoot. Before she could react, 63 struck her, hard, and she dropped. Seven paused, staring down at the woman, her pale blonde hair splayed starkly across the wet pavement. 

Reid. This woman had been there when Reid was recovered in Miami. This woman was Jennifer Jareau. 

63 raised his gun. 

Disobey. Help. Save her. 

Seven grabbed 63's arm, snapping it over her knee. He didn't cry out, just as they were trained, and the other subject paused in surprise. 

Seven twisted 63's neck, snapping it as if it were a twig. Before the other subject could react, he had a bullet between his eyes. 

Jennifer Jareau stirred, and looked up at Seven's four-eyed mask, no fear in her eyes. 

"Sorry..." Seven's voice modulater chirped before she sprinted headlong into the forest.

          Seven wasn't the first subject to go rouge. She was, however, the first to locate the tracking device in her forearm and dig it out with a sharp rock quickly enough to disappear from their radars.

           Agony erupted in her shoulder, the electricity crawling through her veins like fire ants. She ran, despite the pain and the howling storm that had blown over. The device had to recharge, so after a few hours of forcing herself to keep trudging through the woods, the behavior adjuster shut off. 

           Exhausted, sore, victorious, she slept in a damp pile of pine needles under an evergreen. 

           By sparing Agent Jareau, Seven had painted a target upon the BAU members. Seven knew she couldn't keep them out of Osbourne's clutches forever. She also knew, that at some point, she would die in her quest to protect them. Facial prosthetics, stolen cash, cheap motels. Follow, watch, stay back. 

          It was truly amazing that anyone in the BAU had survived this long; the six of them  seemed to have no natural feelings of self preservation, and ran at full speed any monster they faced. Seven was always ready, watching like a worried hawk through through the scope of her sniper rifle. 

          Miraculously, the BAU were often victorious. Rescuing and protecting where they could and bringing those who wouldn't stop to justice. 

Agent Jareau told her team about Seven, and they all wondered where she could be. Agent Morgan soon had an answer for them. 

Seven was unsure if the man who pulled a gun on Agent Morgan was one of Osbourne's subjects in disguise or just a violent drunk, but he died in blood either way.

Dr. Reid's team had traveled to Kentucky to investigate a series of rapes in a small town and Agent Morgan foolishly went to check on a suspect after a late night epiphany. Seven's shoulder throbbed and worry gnawed at her stomach, so of course she followed. 

Agent Morgan was lucky she had; the toothless man had surprised him by leaping out of a bush with a shotgun. 

Seven, of course, was quicker. The shot from her rifle roared like a beast from an untouched forest and the toothless man dropped. Seven was gone before he hit the dirt, tearing into the surrounding woods on a stolen motorcycle. She had seen it in the Agent's eyes: he had been a second from death and he knew it. 

The team didn't have a case for a while after that, so Seven was able to keep her distance for a time. Three of them had interactions with her now. She was far too close, but she knew she would end up here. 

"I don't like this," they would say  "Who is she? What does she want?"

"Freedom," Reid would answer in a hollow voice. 

Dr. Reid's dilauded use continued to worsen and when it began to affect his ability to function, Seven decided it was time to intervene.

Being much bolder than was wise, Seven broke into the BAU and hid in the vents above the men's bathroom on the second floor. If Dr. Reid's habit was as bad as Seven predicted, he would likely come to the bathroom to use at some point soon.

Seven hid primarily in the vents for several days, hoping she was incorrect. Her heart gave a painful throb when Dr. Reid snuck into the bathroom one day, locking the door and pacing around, his shoes clicking against the tiled floor. 

         Dr. Reid seemed at war with himself, throwing disgusted glances at himself in the mirror and running a hand through his unkept hair. He stopped and stared at himself, seeming to steel his will. His hand wandered to his pocket and Seven faintly heard the clink of glass vials from inside it. Enough.

          Seven, expertly quiet, pushed the vent open and eased down onto one of the stalls, onto the toilet tank, and to the floor. Dr. Reid was staring down at his arm where there was a tiny pin prick on his vein. When he looked back up to the mirror Seven was over his shoulder, her masks eyes glinting in displeasure. 

          Dr. Reid whipped around and nearly shouted, gaping at her as if she were some terrible hallucination. 

"I'm here, Dr. Reid," Seven's voice modulater stated. "Although _you_ seem to be tottering on the edge of existence." 

He let out a humorless laugh. "You scared me. How did - What are you doing here?"

"Attempting to stop you from falling prey to your addiction."

"No, I meant why are you everywhere we are?"

"...You're a group of good people with powerful enemies. You need all the allies you can get."

"You're talking about the people who sent you to kill J.J.?"

Seven glanced down at the vials of dilauded clutched in Dr. Reid's hands, not answering. "It would be in your best interest to relinquish those to me."

He stuffed his hand in his pocket. "I'm not an addict."

"I know. However, it will be better if you have no means of giving into your temptation. There is no reason for you to have it in your possession."

"I don't want to hear about 'temptations' or 'sin'," Dr. Reid said loudly, pressing his palms to his eyes.

 "Dr. Reid."

He dropped his hands and looked at her. She reached out a gloved hand. "Please."

He watched her gloved hand. "Tell me who's after us."

Seven dropped her hand. "I can't."

"Then I won't give these to you."

"I can very easily take them from you."

"You won't."

Seven's mask stared at him. "If he finds out that you know who he is he will send so many that I won't be able to fend them all off."

 "And I won't tell anyone. For that reason."

"...Shefang Osbourne. Don't repeat it." 

Dr. Reid studied her. "You're afraid of him."

"I dread the day you learn why." Seven reached her hand out. "I believe we struck a bargain."

         Still studying her, Dr. Reid reluctantly reached into his pocket and pulled out two vials. A knock at the door made them both jump. 

          Immediately, Seven snatched the bottles from his hands and was halfway into the vent before Dr. Reid could react. 

"Wait, Seven we can help -"

"If you attempt to procure more dilauded I shall know. I ... am sorry that you are locked in this battle, but I am confident you will be victorious," Seven whispered quickly. 

The door handle rattled and Seven was gone before he could answer.

           The next time Seven's hand was forced into action was six weeks after she saved Agent Morgan. This time, thankfully, she was able to help without spilling blood. 

          The team had gone to Alabama to investigate a series of murders. Their unsub turned out to be a hurt and angry teenager who was collecting the deaths of the schoolmates who had tormented him and his girlfriend. Dr. Reid became cross with his partners, angry at the treatment of the boy and sympathetic to his pain. 

           Seven trailed behind Dr. Reid, concerned that his emotional response to the case would cause him to put himself in danger to save the boy. Sure enough, 27 minutes past noon there was a stir in the little brick police station she was standing guard on.

           The unsub's girlfriend had come to the station, fearing for her safety and those around her, and the boy had come to say goodbye to her and to kill as many police officers on his way.

            Dr. Reid burst through the doors of the station, tossing his gun directly into Agent Morgan's hands, fixated on a figure now stalking down the street. 

           Seven could see the rage on the boy's face through her scope and felt a twinge of empathy for him. Her empathy wasn't enough to allow him to claim any lives today though, and she was careful to keep him clearly in her sights. 

            Dr. Reid darted toward the boy, defenseless. His voice shook with emotion when he spoke, blocking the boy from the others guns. The boy had to live.

          Seven exhaled through her nose and lowered her rifle. Killing a person was far easier than forcing them to live. Seven rooted through her bag, fishing out the last high powered, remote magnet she had stolen from Osbourne's labs. It would be more than sufficient to knock the guns away from the agents by the police station, but she would have to reach the boy before he got spooked and shot Dr Reid...

           Deciding she had to try, Seven tucked her rifle away and dropped the magnet into the group of agents and jumped off of the police station roof, hitting the ground running. 

          Dr. Reid saw her first but didn't look away from the boy, speaking calmly and slowly. Close enough now to protect Dr Reid, Seven triggered the magnet by the agents and confused shouting confirmed that it worked. The boy saw her too late - he didn't have time to raise his gun before she ripped it from his grasp and threw it far down the road. An attempt to grab her landed him on his back on the pavement. 

          The boy screamed in rage as she cuffed his hands behind his back and tossed a bowie knife and two handguns he had had behind her.  

"He was going to shoot you," Seven said, looking up at Dr Reid accusingly. "And then everyone in the station."

"I had to try..." Dr Reid quietly replied, glancing down at the boy who was now thrashing in rage. 

"Take heart, Dr Reid. Don't drown in the ocean before you," Seven advised, turning to sprint away.

"Seven, listen to me, we can help you!" Dr Reid shouted, grabbing her arm.

           Seven tensed, nearly bringing her knuckles across his face in instinct, but stopped herself and ripped her arm from his grasp. Choosing now to activate, the electrode in her shoulder sparked to life and Seven gave into a moment of weakness, letting out an involuntary whimper. She cleared her face, but it was too late. He had seen. 

           A shout from somewhere behind them stirred Seven to life and she sprinted to the motorcycle she had hidden nearby and tore away on it, 3 police cars giving chase, but losing sight of her as she broke through the tree line.


	3. Shutdown

           Seven was becoming distracted, dangerously so. She had allowed herself to become curled up at the BAU's feet like a friendly animal. Her head was always spinning; painkillers, electrocution, blood, fingerprints. Follow, follow, follow. 

          A mimic with a thousand faces; Seven was a tall blonde patron of a cafe where Agent Morgan frequented, a short boy with a mohawk who hung out smoking on the corner of Agent Garcia's apartment complex, an old woman in pink slippers who gave Agent J.J. a toothy grin. Seven was foolishly bold enough to attend a lecture that Agent Rossi and Dr. Reid gave at a college as a hungover student in the back. 

          Tonight, in the warm, foggy rain, Seven was a teenager with a pocked face. Drunk on adrenaline and two bottles of pain killers, she knew she was losing focus, but her feet seemed planted in the grass a story below Dr. Reid's apartment windows. His shadow flickered across the curtains a story above. What was it like up there? Seven had genuinely no idea. Seven picked at the strings of her sweatshirt, thoughtful, before turning away to find a safe place for the night.

          Careless, reckless, the next day Seven just donned sunglasses and a sweatshirt to hide her appearance the next day. She was so tired of running... 

          She yawned, peering around the crowd of spectators gathered around the BAU's nearest crime scene at the back of Dr. Reid's head. Hazy, she didn't notice she was being ambushed until it was too late. When Seven felt the bite of a needle in her deltoid and noticed the many expressionless people facing her, she had precious seconds to fight. 

          A horrible shriek escaped from Seven's throat, sending a ripple of panic through the crowd, and, more importantly, insuring that this scuffle couldn't go unnoticed. Her fist collided with someone's face and she heard Agent Hotchner shout "FBI, Stop right there!". 

         They were hauling her away now and an elbow knocked her sunglasses off.

         "SEVEN!" she heard Dr. Reid call out, but she didn't have the chance to answer before a pair of doors slammed in front of her and she spiraled into unconsciousness. 

 

                                                                                                                             X       X       X

        A bag was ripped from her head, jolting Seven awake. Before she had come too she knew what was happening; Osbourne had her. It was over. She noticed a camera on a tripod. Seven was restrained with shackles that resembled a straight jacked made of metal. Subject 53 stood to her right, 105 to her left. 

        "I understand that subject seven has become a bit of a stitch in your side lately," Osbourne's voice beeped through an intercom on the ceiling. "Rest assured. She won't be bothering you again."

        Seven kept her face straight, ignoring the hot tears forming in her eyes as she thought about the next time Osbourne sent her after J.J. or Dr. Reid or Agent Garcia. Whatever Osbourne planned for her would surely be the end of her life as well as the BAU members if she were to ever be sent after them again. She had lost. 

       One fat tear rolled down her cheek as Osbourne laughed. 

                                                                                                                            X       X       X

 

       The BAU members felt, not for the first time, utterly powerless. There was no way to track the video that the mysterious captor of Seven had sent or how many more people like her he had held captive. Absolutely no leads. 

       Dr. Reid spent a lot of his free time pouring over the 20 second footage they had been sent and the little poetry book she had dropped the first time he had met her, desperate to find a pattern or lead where there where none. 

       Spring blossomed into a sweltering summer in Virginia and the team was relieved to head north to New York CIty for their next assignment, hoping that, in a small bright side, at least it might be cooler there. 

       Dr. Reid had offered to get coffee for everyone on his way in; cases in cities this huge were never easy. His hand had just brushed the doorhandle of the cafe when he saw her. Seven. Her bruised eyes were currently fixed on a fat brown pigeon pecking at a fry, so she hadn't noticed him yet. 

       Recoiling, bumping into a woman and stammering out an apology, Dr. Reid ducked behind the coffee urn in front of him and whipped his phone out to call Garcia. 

       Seven wandered by the shop, eyes fixed blankly ahead of her. The months hadn't been kind to her. Dr. Reid followed, despite Garcia's pleas that it had to be a trap. He wouldn't, couldn't, allow her to fall back into the clutches of Osbourne. If there was the slimmest chance he could help her he would take it. She had gotten away before, was it so unreasonable she would again? 

       Dr. Reid muted Garcia's call and slid the phone into his pocket and ducked out of the shop after Seven, out of the busy streets and toward a long bridge. Seven eventually wandered into an alley and Dr. Reid paused. 

"Garcia - " he started, but was cut off by an impossibly fast someone rushing behind him and locking him in a choke hold. 

15 to 20 seconds, Dr. Reid reminded himself, not that more would do him any good. Seven, now in front of him, had his gun and was staring at him with watery eyes. 

"You knew this was a trap," she said, her voice sounding weirdly calm compared to her face. Her voice faded off as Dr. Reid lost consciousness. She was right.

                                                                                                                      X       X       X

       Agent Garcia had raised the alarm, but by the time help arrived all they discovered at the place where Dr. Reid's cellphone had lost signal were the phone snapped in half and two drops of blood. 

       On returning to the precinct they received am anonymous video call. They knew what it would be before Agent Hotchner hit accept.

       It was Dr. Reid, unconcious, tied to a chair. Seven stood next to him, still except for the tears streaming down her face. 

"I can't believe that actually worked on one of you," a voice that the BAU members knew to be Osbourne's drawled. "Of course, I knew if this worked on anyone it would be him." 

       Seven fixated on something off camera. 

"Wake him," Osbourne said.

       Seven shook Dr. Reid, but his head lolled and he didn't stir.

"Slap him," Osbourne instructed. 

       Seven's chest heaved, but her hand came across Reid's face and it echoed in the small room. Reid jumped awake, blinking and looking around the room. 

"Who are you?" Reid asked into the room. 

"That hardly matters," Osbourne's voice replied.

"You're Seven's kidnapper."

The voice chuckled. "I'm much more than that, but I've no interest in picking your brain, Dr Reid. I've brought you here to make an example out of you."

 Reid's eyes narrowed and fresh tears poured down Seven's expressionless face. 

"Untie him."

Seven let out a choked sound as she jerked forward. 

"Seven, it's going to be okay -"

"Choke him."

Seven sobbed, but her hands seized his throat. 

Agent Garcia recoiled and screamed, throwing her hands up in front of her eyes. 

"He's going to make her kill Spencer," Agent Prentiss gasped. 

"Seven -" Dr. Reid coughed. "Fight it - Fight - Him - "

Osbourne laughed cruelly. "Oh, but she can't help it. I can, and will, order her to gut you like a fish, and she will have no choice but to obey."

Dr. Reid gagged and Seven squeezed her eyes shut. 

"Drop him," Osbourne said, almost lazily, and Dr. Reid crumpled to his knees and coughed. 

"I won't kill him just yet."

The camera focused on Dr. Reid on his knees. 

"You'll see us in an hour."

          As bad as his word, Osbourne flipped the feed back on exactly 59 minutes later. The team recoiled at the sight of Dr. Reid, his face was bloody and swollen. 

"Sit him up."

Seven's hands shook as she lifted Dr. Reid into the chair. 

 Dr. Reid looked up at her through his unswollen eye, unafraid. 

"Take a knife from your belt."

Seven whipped her head up to beg with the intercom. "No, I can't!"

"Take. The. Knife."

Seven sobbed, trying to hide it, and the serrated hunting knife caught the light when she unsheathed it.

"Kill him."

"Hey, hey, look at me," Dr. Reid rasped before she could cry out. "I know it isn't you. ...I know you don't have a choice."

"Dr. Reid, I am so sorry," Seven whimpered.

"It's okay," he soothed, knowing he saw death as he looked down at her pale face glowing in the florescent light. "These woods are lovely, dark and deep."

"But I have promised to keep." Seven could almost see the worn pages of the little poetry book before her.  "And miles to go before I sleep."

Seven's knife plunged into Dr. Reid's stomach and the helpless BAU members screamed. Seven's arm jerked and blood poured down her arms and onto the floor. 

She screamed and sank to the floor, putting her head on Dr. Reid's knee, showing his bloody, lifeless form to the camera.

The camera shut off on the BAU end, leaving Seven alone. 

"Get rid of it when you're done crying over it," Osbourne's voice echoed in the seemingly cavernous room. 

Seven lifted her head, still gasping loudly, but her expression was now determined. She lifted Dr. Reid's limp body over her shoulder and left the room.

          The other subjects stood by to let her pass, all of them having some sort of idea of the ordeal she had just been through. She carried Dr. Reid into the less used part of the facility, closing herself into a room that had once been used to collect and send cargo from the river. She put him down on the stone floor and knelt next to him. 

"It's okay, but you have to be quiet," Seven murmured wiping blood from Dr. Reid's forehead. 

Dr. Reid's brown eyes snapped open and he sat up, staring at Seven in awe. "When did you slip the blood capsules into my shirt?"

"Nevermind that," Seven said, hoisting the hatch door open. "I apologize for hitting you. Can you swim?"

"Yeah, I can, but -"

"Good, get in."

"You're coming with me, right?"

"I have a chip implanted in my shoulder that can deliver a fatal shock of electricity at the push of a button. The longer you talk to me the less of a head start you have, now get in the chute."

"Seven - "

Seven sighed and she lifted Dr. Reid up toward the chute, ready to stuff him in.

"No, no, no, just wait!" Dr. Reid protested. "Please, I can help you - let us help you!"

"You want to help me, Dr. Reid?" Seven demanded, Dr. Reid gaping at her. "Live. For both of us."

Struggle as he did, Seven was much stronger than Dr. Reid and Seven's heart thumped unpleasantly as she pushed the only good thing in her life down a trash chute. 

He stared into her eyes as he slid down, down, down, yelling for her, before he splashed into chilly water. 

Bruised, cold, but very much alive, Dr. Reid found himself washed half a mile down the river. He hauled himself out of the water, nearly blind in the thick darkness, and started walking. He was found 45 minutes later on the side of the road by a cop who thought he was drunk and 15 minutes later as many SWAT agents as the local force could spare were hurling down a crooked narrow road toward the facility. 

"We have to be careful about how we enter," Dr. Reid was telling Agent Hotchner as they paced around the blockade that had just been created. "We risk Seven, and the lives of all of the subjects if we don't - "

He was cut off by the sound of helicopter blades and a black chopper soared overhead. 

"You've already lost!" Osbourne's voice bellowed from a speaker on the chopper. 

"Watch out!" Agent Morgan shouted as something dropped from the copter. Shots rang out after the chopper but the BAU was fixated on what had been thrown down.

"Seven," Dr. Reid choked out.

Seven was dead. If the hole in her forehead hadn't killed her, the fall from the chopper would have. Her neck was clearly broken, her face twisted into a last defiant sneer.

Dr. Reid clamped his hand over his mouth. He squeezed his eyes shut and Agent Morgan came over and placed a reassuring hang on his shoulder.

"I'm so sorry, Reid," he said gently. He let out a dry sob in response. 

The bodies in the facility were too many. There were 48 bodies not including Seven. All of the files and harddrives were gone, but it was obvious that this had been a lab that focused on human expiramentation. 

Seven's autopsy revealed several more disturbing things; the most obvious being the cuts, scars, stitches, and bruises that riddled her body. The second, as Dr. Reid mentioned, was a device that could deliver a variety of different shocks to her left shoulder. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this isn't the end I'm working on another chapter rn c:


End file.
